


Instincts

by ultrafreakyfangirl



Series: Hassandra AU [4]
Category: The Society (TV 2019)
Genre: F/F, Hassandra AU subplot continued, after Thanksgiving, except this is actually canon so, kind of, takes place in 1x08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 23:02:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19799560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ultrafreakyfangirl/pseuds/ultrafreakyfangirl
Summary: Helena experiences instincts; doesn't everyone? Except this particular instinct is more foreign than all the others. And it scares her, she won't deny that. But what scares her more is that Elle's fate is in the hands of a seventeen year old child.





	Instincts

**Author's Note:**

> This is another one for Emmy - I hope you see this! :) I went back and re-watched that scene in the hospital and wow was it adorable.

Helena didn’t know what to do, what she _needed_ to be doing, when she saw Elle like she was. Campbell was holding her like a doll, not that she didn’t look like one, all slumped over his shoulder and her muscles slack, but for once, for once, he was holding her like she deserved to be held. Delicately. Gently. As if one false move would harm her, somehow.

He got her to a bed and Helena found herself following, quiet, breathing silently in the din of the storm. There was so much going on around her, panic; so much panic, and when Helena sat down in that hard, plastic chair beside Elle’s bedside, she had to restrain herself from stroking her forehead, the skin nearly grey, her hair a matted mess and framing the gauntness of her cheeks and lips.

It would look too intimate, have people asking questions she sure as hell didn’t want them asking, not now; and so, she settled for rubbing her leg, her stomach too, anything to calm her, because even though her conscious state was not aware of anything, not the same could be said for her subconscious one. Psychology was a powerful thing.

She watched as the IV broke the skin of her arm and started pumping comfortably through her vein. Now, Helena could _breathe._

She awoke, suddenly and startled, her eyes wild, her body even more so, flailing around the bed like she’d been attacked, and she kept repeating the words _“I don’t want it”_ over and over, almost like a mantra, like she was convincing herself, this poor girl was _convincing_ herself that she didn’t deserve to feel better. That she didn’t _deserve to live_.

And that’s when it clicked for Helena. Campbell’s eyes were on her, but they weren’t showing tenderness, no, they were _scrutinizing_ her. That needed to stop. That needed to stop _right now._ She wanted permission to punch him. _God, can I please, please, punch this sick bastard right in his sick, twisted, face?_   


“Elle, you have to keep it in… okay?”

She almost called her _sweetheart._ She was so close. It felt like it was an instinct, almost and it wasn’t in the way she sometimes called her friends little nicknames, but it _was_ in the way she called her boyfriend _babe._ And it didn’t feel wrong; could an instinct ever feel wrong? Ill timed maybe, but never wrong. She was sure of that, and that’s why it scared her so much. Impulses were terrifying. Urges even more so. Those though, you could rebuff. _Instincts –_ you have to act on to _survive._

Elle’s eyes shot over to her. She may have just been imagining it, but Helena swore that she saw a flicker of calm come over them. Then she whispered, “okay; _okay.”_


End file.
